


Raise A Glass To Freedom

by Orions_Belt



Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 16:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18626944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orions_Belt/pseuds/Orions_Belt
Summary: What goes through a countries mind during civil war? What’s supposed to?





	Raise A Glass To Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning for mentions of recent tragedies in America, (ie; gun violence.)

          An eagle. A musket. A ship… a few more ships. A ball. 

Alfred laid awake, tired eyes searching the ceiling for more shapes. A quiet passtime to keep his mind awake and present. It didn’t matter if it was working or not- at this point, he didn't care.

...He just wanted to help, he just wanted to be noticed-

He slammed his hands over his ears and rolled away. Like that would help. The assault of thoughts was coming from the inside- from his country. From his people. He couldn’t tell his thoughts apart from theirs anymore… were they even different?

Fires raged half of him, snowstorms and hurricanes battered the other. All of his states were trying, really, but they were scared, just like he was.

Whos side was he on?

         His earliest memories and some of his most precious, fighting for his freedom. Running and living, breathing and laughing, feeling the thrill of it all beside his own soldiers. Fighting on the _right_ side, for freedom. To spread his wings and shake off the rusty old chain around his ankles. Full rights of freedom was his goal, and the thing he swore to maintain.

So now then, what was he supposed to do?

His citizens in the great state of Texas, driving and living and laughing free, until all that went with a gunshot. All because of their looks. Was that justified? _Of course not!_ But… the right to own arms was one of his core values. The Second Amendment.

So then, would it be a restriction of freedom to take that away? He knew his citizens took pride in their firearms, he’d seen the happy memories of fathers out with their daughters; doing range practice or bringing home dinner. There had to be another way.

But… Orlando, Florida. His schools. Noble citizens living here and loving here- those that came for the promise of a better life… those that came here for freedom…

Alfred’s thoughts warred with each other. His own against his people’s. Could it even be considered that? Wasn’t it his own thoughts against his own? 

What was it when California came to him, an arm around Oregon and Arizona, coughing her lungs up and covered in burn scars. When he asked his boss to send help to them. When he _begged_ his boss to send help to them. His boss was a citizen too, his actions and thoughts made up part of Alfred as well. Alfred didn't want this. He knew he didn’t- but the passiveness of his citizens slowly ebbed into his system, and before he knew it, he could no longer hear the cries.

When Michigan comes to him, dehydrated and shaking, asking for water, over and over, he can’t hear it. 

When Puerto Rico comes, he can’t feel it.

His boss hadn’t been trustworthy for a few years. That man made dread creep over his shoulders, but a rule’s a rule. Eight years only. There was still hope for 2020.

Hope… That sounds about right. Freedom and hope.

           Other countries saw, of course. Americans were like the (stuck up) celebrities of the world, how could they not? Did they all notice, then, when Alfred stared at his food a little too long, debating whether or not to eat it. His citizens more private thoughts and concerns flooded his mind, and he found himself either binge eating and refusing anything at all.

Did they notice, then, when he wore a higher turtleneck or scarf. When every red line around his neck got angrier and louder with every child of his who… Couldn’t stand it anymore. When he spend hours staring blankly at the pride flag on his sweater. When he couldn't look at Sweden and Finland.

There were so many things he couldn’t decide on- even when the right answer was so obvious, _do something about it!_ But nations only have so much power. They are included in the system, yes, but it’s being listened to that matters. No one had heard his voice for awhile.

Alfred spoke for the people, he felt their pain first hand. When they fell sick, so did he. When they starved, so did he. When they argue amongst themselves… so does he.

         No amount of rolling over and covering his ears would stop it. It only made him feel better for a moment, before inevitably, a shot rang out in his ears, and his mind blanked. The thoughts that came after indicated the reason. Why one of his citizens shot another in cold blood.

 

**_BAM!_ **

 

Alfred stared blankly ahead. 

_...What was I thinking about?_ He sat up slowly, and  felt the wetness on his cheeks. _Oh, wow, I was crying again. HAHA, that’s pathetic. I wonder what's on…_

He clicked on the news channel, nothing huge going on for once. For now. 

He took a deep breath and leaned back, before someone else's emotions entered his mind. 

“WOO _YEAH!_ USA! No one can beat us! Keep your disease and dust in your own damn country, freedom is ours!”

His mind raced to process. _Bad or good? Bad or good?_ But the fog was still there, and the tiny little nagging feeling of pain was washed out by pride. Pride and love for his country, of course! He was great! Freedom was king here, thats all anybody needed to know.

He rolled off his bed and checked his phone. Missed calls from the states, mostly Michigan and Louisiana, for some reason. Whatever. He’d check ‘em later.

His coat was by the door where it always was, and one of his staff called out out to him as he left. Grinning, he waved.

The scars on his neck flared, and a chill went down his spine, but he kept walking. The guns in the windows of the stores. The old church he knew was at the edge of the city. They were more free here than anywhere else, he told himself. Free to do whatever they wanted. Well, let freedom ring and all, right? 

Next week, the gun shop windows were all out, and glass covered the floor. Alfred choked on his knees as the angry red line around his neck blistered and bleed- soaking through his jacket and scarves.

 

Let freedom ring and all, right?

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t decide how I feel about aph America. I know hes portrayed as a definitely stereotypical American, but at heart what this country stands for isnt being met by its actions. I feel like that'd come across in his personality, somehow.


End file.
